Break The Silver Lining
by Mello2014
Summary: A war has begun. The hunters, vampires, and werewolves of Mystic Falls are drawing battle lines. Fear and grief has clouded judgment and hearts will be broken. Bonds will be destroyed. Blood will be shed. Behind this mess is a larger menace pulling the strings. Can these opposing forces find enough amity to deal with the real problem before it's too late? **TW/TVD/SPN x-over**
1. Introduction: The History

**Disclaimer: I own noting but my plot and OCs.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Hello Readers. If your a regular fan of mine (thanks if you are) I apologize that my other Teen Wolf stories have not been updated. I have to do some re-writing, but have no fear for this one. I promise to have a steady flow of updates for this one. :)

WARNINGS:

-Okay, so I've never ever EVER seen TVD. I just never got into it:/ But Damon is maximum-sexiness and I love Stephan+Allison so, yeah:) Just saying it's very LOOSELY based off of TVD, so bear with me?

- A lot of this is Slightly AU.

_PLOT EXTENSION_:

Would you like one?

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The year was 1492. The _Santa Maria _was meant to set sail at high noon. Christopher Columbus and his crewmen boarded their fleet of three ships, desire and enthusiasm guiding their voyage to wealth and fame. The surety of success was so prognostic that Columbus banished the doubt in his crew to oblivion, promising mass glory and riches beyond their wildest imaginations. The mood was set. The time was right. Only the future knew what lie in wait for the eager Spanish and Englishmen.

Understand that this is all that history allows you to see. No one ever speaks about the dirty deeds that go on beyond the rusty pages of history books. Nothing is mentioned about the secrets that plague the good name of historical adventure. You never see the black sheep of the family. It's always there, haunting corners and willing to be seen, but nevertheless, hidden.

The fourth ship was never mentioned in this story.

The voyagers upon the _Santa Maria _fleet consisted of men who knew the sea and diplomats. These men were, of course, ready to trade and give aid to any and all of the foreign tradesmen they came across in order to get the best of what they wanted. Simplicity at it's best. However, the foundation of that simplicity had false boards beneath it.

The Spanish monarchy was far from foolish. They understood that brutality behind diplomacy always promised them their gold. And so, the Spanish monarchy rounded thirty-five Spanish and English prisoners into a ship called _Alejandro of Milan, _captained by a prison guard turned seamen named Liam Cortez III. He was inexperienced but knew how to use a compass and accepted the terms the Queen offered. Along with a few crewman, they set sail a day after Columbus' fleet. Their job was simple. The pay was good, and the prisoners remained in chains. Nothing would go wrong. _Alejandro of Milan _sailed for three days before Cortez began to see land. Excited and full of pride, he assured his men that the trip was nearly over, and that they'd be in the ports of Indochina before the next two days were out.

Cortez spoke too soon.

Among his _normal _crew on their _normal _voyage, was a vampire by the name of Alasdair. He'd lurked in the shadows of the palace, awaiting a plan for a voyage like this one. Alasdair knew of a land that Europe had never known existed; a home he so desperately needed to get

to. He compelled his way onto the ship and awaited the inevitable misdirection and loss of path so that he could take the reigns of the ship and go home, food in toe. Alasdair did not expect the captain to have such a keen sense of direction, and did not think he'd have to do what he did because of this turn of events. In a haste to get his plan back on track, he compelled the Captain to turn his ship around.

Confused, the crew tried making since of why Cortez had set them off course so suddenly after their voyage had been near it's close. Their confusion was only heightened when the captain met their words with glazed over eyes. As if he was in a trance. Suspicion rose as to why Cortez would not listen to reason, even when the crewmen threatened him. Even more so, a few of the prisoners were disappearing. And there was no way they could break their chains or escape through the underbelly so why?

Whispers of witches and ghosts spread around the ship like sickness. And fast. The whispers became screams of accusation as fear began infecting the crewmen. Their voyage had reached day seven, and by then, men were being cast off the boat. Alasdair knew he could not compel the entire company, but he could not allow them to destroy each-other; they were necessary for this voyage and the fate of his home. Alasdair didn't know what to do, so he did the only thing that came to mind, and killed the crew. It was reckless and messy but he couldn't afford being found out. He couldn't afford coming so close and then being ripped away from another opportunity.

He was created from the crimson red of fire and the deep blackness of earth. His mother is thirst and his father is rage. Alasdair was one of the first vampires. Forget what you know about Dracula. Dracula is fantasy. He's what the humans created to minimize the real fear. The real monster. Vampires are the consequence of sin's wickedness. They are sin-bred and fear to the core. The top of the food chain.

Created in 10th century Scotland from a dog bite, Alasdair was cast out of town like a leper. His fellow townspeople's fear was deadly and they tried with all their might to end his menacing existence. They tried _everything_, but Alasdair could not be killed. Realizing this, they shut up their doors to him. Once Alasdair's blood lust had subsided, a bottomless void of loneliness opened up in him. For decades he drifted, awaiting a place to call home; a family to reclaim. There were whispers among the imperishable about a place on the Western Hemisphere that housed things like them. Castaways. The unwanted. Monsters. Alasdair was sick of what being a monster meant; which was alone. Desperate, he put aside discrediting accusations of this place being pure fantasy and chased after the dream of being somewhere he'd belong.

Twelve days had past since their departure from the Spanish coast. Down ten prisoners, and crewless, he made it. The rumors were true. Once his feet touched the sand of the foreign land, he knew it. He _felt _it. Alasdair was home.

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Next Chapter Up by Friday at the latest.:) Suscribe&Review (sorry, overestimated my time, there)


	2. Chapter 1: Sometimes Trouble Finds You

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING! Except Amber Thomas and my mysterious plot o.O**

**A/N**: **So i drove myself crazy trying to get this chapter to you. I re-wrote this 150 TIMES before I settled on how to start it. Grr...you better love this! xD I will not make promises I cant keep again. Never have, why did I ever start? Enjoy the chapter. :) Again, it's very loosely based off of the TVD and slightly AU with TW&SPN. Have fun. **

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Stiles Stilinski has never thought of himself as nosy person. The word nosy was way to brash and was always hinted with negativity; no, Stiles was more of an _inquisitive _young man than _nosy_. But the term nosy came to mind as he stared out of his bedroom window at the home right next to his.

The two story house was once inhabited by an elderly couple. That doesn't seem worthy of notoriety, but the fact that they were swingers and had parties on a weekly bases was. Stiles wished for the life of him that his father could put an end to the volatile circus next door but they weren't doing anything illegal (_which it should be) _so life continued on, and Stiles learned to never open his windows. As if fate had learned of his ordeal, the couple put up a for-sale sign six months ago. So overcome with joy, the young man even helped them move, all the while praying that the couple hadn't sold the home to any other crazies. Stiles had struck gold. Not only were his neighbors seemingly normal, but the youngest of the three was a teenager. A very attractive teenager.

He continued to watch as the three of them moved boxes from a large truck to the inside of the home. He wondered if-

"STILES!"

Stiles looked alert when he heard his father's voice, "yeah Dad?" he came down the stairs, putting his flannel sweater back over his bulls eye t-shirt; he knew what was about to be asked of him. Entering the kitchen, he caught his father in mid-shout. "Oh", his father said, going back to the stove where he had been preparing dinner. Stiles arched an eyebrow, "since when did you cook?" Mr. Stilinski smirked at his son, "since the smell of three day old Chinese became the permanent scent in kitchen. Take out the garbage". Stiles complied, slipping on his shoes and going out the back door with a ripe hefty bag.

_She's prettier up close_. Stiles' concentration went a bit numb as he got a clear eye-shot of his new neighbor. Her hair; a deep coffee brown, swayed around her shoulders. Her skin was a clear milk chocolate tint and her eyes were as green as the legendary Mystic Falls forest itself. He cocked his head to the side as she walked towards the boxes again. It was refreshing to see a new face around here. For a second, he was beginning to get _bored_.

Life had been far from boring; new faces was about as shocking as Stiles' life could get. His best friend, Scott McCall was a _werewolf_, and they spent their entire sophomore year learning to tame the beast and live with his curse. Both of them. One might think that the cursed one was the most afflicted, and it's true, but that does not shadow the struggle of the ally. The one who keeps the secret, protects their supernatural comrade and continue to _love them_ no matter how many times they've been near death during full moons or gotten into deep trouble with their authoritative, policemen fathers. And if all that wasn't difficult, now they have to worry about an sort-of-friend-turned-Alpha and his consistent pursuit of Scott. Yes, life had been far from trivial.

Nonetheless, the young woman was defiantly a refreshment to his abnormal existence. Making friends with her couldn't possibly hurt, right? Making a bee line through his gate and over to the young woman, he took a few cautious steps forward since she wasn't facing him. "Well", echoes her voice into his inattentive ears, "I was wondering when you'd stop staring and come over here". The young woman turned on her heel, and faced him. Stiles smirked, "direct, I like it", he held out his right hand, stuffing the left in his back pocket, "Stiles". She took his hand firmly and smiled at him, her eyes on his face, "Amber. Nice to meet you Stiles". Stiles smirked again, "need any help with those?" Amber's head bobbed from side to side, as she physically weighed her options, "I'm not sure yet. Are you going to continue the staring at me?", her voice was laced with soft humor, "because it's sorta creepy".

Stiles shook his head and laughed, "no, no, my creeping days are over". He heard her laughing with him. He nodded in approval. This would definitely be the start of a wonderful friendship.

_i_

Amber Thomas has never been impulsive. Her parents had raised her to be a cautious individual, so she always contemplated a step before taking it. This is why she was here; it made sense. This time last year, Amber lost her parents in a fatal car accident. They were civil servants; a criminologist and decorated detective. Their death was sudden and heart shattering. For weeks after, the young teenager locked herself in her now empty home and grieved. After a while, her home in Boston didn't feel like home at all. She liked school; always did well, and her charismatic nature drew people to her, but she felt like _home _held way to much bad, and not enough good. She was suffocating under the constant memory of her parent's untimely death, so when her sister offered for her to move with she and her husband to a whole other state, she didn't bat an eyelash; Amber needed a fresh start.

Amber never knew Mystic Falls existed. She knew a Civil War battle happened there, but that was as far as her knowledge went on the subject. She read that the small town was split up into four small Districts; Beacon Hills, Mullox Ridge, Malsum County, and Song Mar Park. The districts were created when the first settlers from Europe arrived and fought the natives for land. The compromised areas later joined to become Mystic Falls.

Amber's elder sister Linda and her brother-in-law Bryan were going to have their first child after three years of marriage. They really wanted to get a home and raise their child in a peaceful enviorment, so when Bryan's promotion landed him in "the middle of nowhere", everything had seemed to fall into place. Amber's living with them only increased their joy; they loved the young woman and were glad to have her close to them. It was Linda's only problem with moving; leaving her sister behind, but her husband was patient and knew that Amber took their parent's death hard. He suggested she move in with them. Amber still has no idea how to thank him. She decided to start with helping him lift the heavy boxes.

"So…", Stiles began, heavily taking a seat on the bottom step of her porch. Amber sat a few steps above him, placing her elbows on the step ahead of hers, "So", she said, that same soft humor lining her words. "Where ya from?" Stiles asked, turning his head sideways to see her. Amber moved down a few steps so that she was next to him, "Boston", she sighed, "lived there all my life." Stiles nodded, "why the move, then?"

Amber looked over at the young man, and was unsure of what to say. She didn't know him, and had never been the transparent type. But she was no liar, "some things got heavy there, and I needed a fresh start", she suddenly found her fingers very interesting. Stiles sensed that he'd made her feel uncomfortable, "what grade are you going into?"

"the 11th grade. I'm a junior", she tossed her head back in mock-agony. Stiles smirked, "Me too. Hey it's not that bad, just two more years and you blow that popsicle stand."

"And trade it in for a bigger one?"

"Touché" Amber smiled. "How long you lived here?" she pointed over to his house, most of the lights on and the faint aroma of pasta making it's way through the cracks of the doors. No one made spaghetti like his father. "Ever since I was kid", he beat absently on his knees, in thought, "I cant remember not living there. I painted that fence with my dad", he points, "planted that tree with my mom", he smirked, remembering, "it's apart of me. Like all childhood homes are, you know? They grow on you." Amber nodded, "true. So you're a cop's kid?", she points to the police car, "I bet you never get into trouble", she winks, laughing. Stiles snorts in response, clasping his hands together, "I'm a saint", he laughs, "I try to stay out of it, but when there's so much to get into…" he shrugs, "whataya do?" Amber nodded, "I hear you. Sometimes trouble finds you." The two share a look. Her eyes hold no secrets but Stiles couldn't help but feel like she knew exactly what kind of trouble he was talking about. Three months ago, he would have never thought anything of that, but now; everyone's got an agenda, and he just cant be sure. Of anything.

"STILES!"

He recognized the frustrated worry in his father's voice. "Alight, I think I've let him worry enough", he stood, and she with him, "it was really nice meeting you Amber. Hope we can hang out sometime". She smiled, "I'd like that, and thanks again for helping us with those boxes. Good night Stiles", she touched his arm with a polite smile, and walked up the steps of her new home. Stiles turned and jogged off her property onto his own. He decided against his suspicion, figuring he'd been paranoid; how could she know? She just go here. But Stiles still couldn't help but feel that her words held some sort of foreboding truth; as if trouble was really looking for him and had just found him. But he was going to put the thought to the side. He had more important things to worry about.

**I**

Dean Winchester hated uncomfortable silences. He was a man of many distastes, but cumbersome quiet had to be the most irking of his nerve. And lately, his younger brother had become the _**definition **_of uncomfortable silence. A few weeks ago, Dean found his brother covered in blood with no recollection of where he was and how he'd gotten there. The younger man had been possessed, and once the demon had been exorcized, Sam Winchester fell into a depression. He kept replaying his father's words through his head, conveyed by Dean; _I'd have to either save you…or kill you Sammy. _Sam was afraid. What if he couldn't be saved? His life had started to become unsalvageable, and it was more apparent than ever to him that if things didn't turn around, the decision would have to be made. Sam had _killed _people; _innocent _people while he was possessed. Witnessed it all. How far would things go before he found himself…

"Sammy, you alright?"

_No, I'm scared sh**less, Dean_. "I'm fine, let's get outta here." Sam got out of the vintage impala, a frustrated Dean trailing behind him. The Winchester's were at their late cousin's funeral. She'd been killed by a werewolf, and their great uncle Gerard had called them only a few days ago for help. Bobby urged them to go, thinking it would be good for Sam to loose himself in some work for a little while. It was always how Sam pushed through; when he had a job to do. The Argent's were distant relatives on their mother's side, and Gerard had known John and Mary really well. John was his first call, but after hearing about John's passing, Gerard called his sons, and pleaded with them to help him. Dean was a family man, so he obliged with little hesitation. Sam was still numb, and was indifferent to the matter. Thus their current situation.

"It's a circus", Sam said with a hint of sadness in his voice. "It's plain assholery is what it is. Who harasses a grieving family?" Dean huffed as he pushed through the crowd of reporters and flashing cameras, the two making it up to the front of the cluster before being stopped by a cop. "Excuse me, gentlemen, this is a private gathering, I'm going to need some I.D". Dean eyebrow arched and his eyes smoldered, "maybe you should worry about hawks behind us and not the people in the freakin' funeral!" Sam sighed, "we're relatives of the deceased sir." The probing officer was about to ask something else and more than likely be answered with Dean's fists if Chris Argent had not interrupted him, "their with us, Officer Jargons". The officer lifted his belt and got out of the way, and Dean bumped his shoulder as the two passes by the man, "Still as hot headed as always, huh?" The older Winchester smiled, "Hey Chris", he hugged him. "Sorry about John." Dean nodded, "sorry about Kate."

The two had known each other from when Dean was a teenager. Chris was much older , but he was never as hard on him as his father was, so the two always had a very light relationship. They'd even kept in touch for a while after that first hunt. But sparingly. Chris was Dean's buddy, but it was hard to laugh with a person when you're both still reeling from grief. Dean decided to smile anyway. "You must be Sam, it's a pleasure to meet you", Chris held out his hand, Sam took it with a small smile, "nice to meet you, and I'm sorry about your sister". Chris nodded a thank you to him, ushering them to the seats. "Dean, Sam, this is my family. My wife Victoria and my daughter, Allison". Dean and Sam greeted the two women with condolences. Allison smiled at them, "did you know Kate?" She receive shake of the head from Dean, but a yes from Sam, "I met her a year ago, and didn't even know she was family until I told her who my father was. She helped me out on a hunt." Allison nodded, Sam continued, "I enjoyed her company, she was a character". Allison smirked in agreement, "That she definitely was."

_i_

Gerard's plan was simple. Revenge. "But I thought Peter Hale was killed by his nephew. Isn't the kid the Alpha?" Dean asked, as they read over the case file on the Hale family and the fact that the Argent family had been at odds with them for years. "Yes" Gerard stated forwardly, "and Derek Hale is a menace to this town. He will kill, he's a monster and nothing changes that. I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen." Sam couldn't look up from his beer bottle. _He's a monster and nothing changes that_. That hit him like a bullet in the chest, and he couldn't shake the feeling of guilt; a guilt he had yet to acquire.

"…and Sam can survey the school-Sam?"

"Yeah, the school. He's young and needs a pack, that's the first place he'd look right?" Dean arched his eyebrow at his brother. The conversation continued, only Dean caught his brother's lack of attentiveness. "We've got better plans for the high school. We've got a possible beta there", Chris said, sitting on the chair behind his desk. "A kid? We're hunting kids?" Dean's scrutiny wasn't hidden. "We follow a code Dean, we wont kill they don't, but it's better safe than sorry." Dean nodded in agreement. "Alright, I'm in." Sam nodded. "We'll go over procedure tomorrow, but for now, I've got work in the morning."

The Winchesters left the Argent home and headed to their hotel. As expected, the car ride was silent. "Nice save back there, it almost seemed like you were paying attention", Dean said sarcastically. Sam peered out of the window, trying in whatever way he could to avoid his brother, "I don't know what your talking about." They came to a red light, and Sam could feel Dean's eyes on the back of his head, "what's wrong with you Sam? Talk to me, man, is this about Dad? The demon? What is-"

"Can we not talk about this?" Sam turned wild eyes on his brother, voice aggravated and teeth clenched, as if it had been Dean's thirtieth time repeating the question. Dean's sigh concluded yet another failed attempt to break through to his brother. "Sooner or later", Dean began, voice stern and serious, "your going to need to say something to somebody about whatever is going up in that screwed up head of yours. I just hope they're still listening". Sam didn't have to think hard about who Dean was talking about.

He wondered how long it'd be before he told Dean, if the silence and the depression would pass or if the voices in his head were right; that he wasn't savable. That he was too far gone. Sam sighed inwardly, hating the feeling of helplessness. Hating the feeling of weariness. Hating the feeling of apathy.

He just prayed that Dean's patience ran thick.

_i_

Sam woke up in his room alone. Dean left to get a tune-up and no doubt go over the case with Chris again. The Winchesters were all for riding the world of the menacing supernatural, but they were the first to know that the hunt was not always black and white; there was plenty of grey. Sam feared that Gerard Argent saw nothing but red. And that wouldn't sit well with him; he wasn't signing up to help anyone kill the innocent; cursed or not. Maybe he just sympathized, but when it came down to it, it was not fair to kill a man for something he couldn't control. Sam's own person flashed across his eyes when he thought these things. He concluded that if he was ever going to get over this depression, he'd have to stop thinking of himself as a monster. But he wasn't sure if he could stop-just yet. He had to be assured of the opposite to loose a thought; until he knew he wasn't a monster, he'd see himself as one. It's just the way he thought.

Dean and Sam sat awkwardly on the coach in the Argent's finely furnished living room. Chris had invited them over for dinner and to go over what they'd do about tracking Derek Hale and his progress on making a pack. Allison Argent descended her stairs and looked at the men strangely before deciding to be a polite hostess. "Hey guys." The men looked up, and straightened up in their seats before she sat in the chair opposite them. "Hey Allison", Sam smiled. "How you feeling?", Dean offered. She nodded, smiling, "good, great. Much better", she tucked loose curls behind her ears, "so", she wet her lips nervously, "you guys are here to help my grandfather?" Dean and Sam exchanged a look, "yes", Dean said, "we were actually gonna ask-"

"Dinner's ready".

Dean was the first out of his seat, as the three made their way to the kitchen. Sam tapped Allison's shoulder, so that he had her attention, "it's okay to not be okay with it, Allison". Her eyes widened with surprise as he turned toward the kitchen. Sam knew something was up with that girl the moment they came to the funeral. He recognized the look in her eyes when they spoke about the werewolves. He knew the look. It was apart of him. She knew someone-someone who should have been on the opposite side of her arrow-and loved them. Loved them with such a painful love that she was no doubt being selfish about it; being with them though everything screamed disaster. Sam understood that look all too well, and knew what it felt like to be the only one with it.

Dinner was pleasant. The Argent's were courteous and inquisitive. The Winchester's were entertaining and full of stories. It most certainly helped that the boy's had not had a home cooked meal in ages, and really enjoyed Victoria's food. All was well in the Argent home for that moment. After dinner, Allison asked Sam to help her with the dishes, and he gladly obliged.

Allison was silent as she washed, and Sam dried. To him, the scene nearly felt surreal; washing dishes after dinner in a home. Though it was not his own, it still made him feel like this may have been his nightly routine if life had been different; if his parents did not bare the responsibility that avertedly planted itself on he and his brother. Sam wondered if Allison realized how lucky she was. "What did you mean, back there in the hallway?", Allison paused, placing a hand on her hip and angling toward the older man. This was the universal symbol of a woman's 'I mean business' stance. Sam continued to dry the already shined dish. "Well", he shrugged, putting the dish down and turning forward, crossing his arms, "I meant exactly what I said. Just because this is your family's life…", he looked down, wondering if he should be telling her this; over ruling her parents. But she deserved an option, right? Sam never got one, and he'd be damned if every kid that was in this predicament felt trapped, like he once did, "…doesn't mean it has to be yours", he sighs, "I just know how it fells to be trapped".

Allison nodded, returning to the near empty sink. "Maybe you can tell me about it one day?" Sam nodded, "maybe", he smiled as he cleared the last dish and they put them away. "Allison", Sam thought aloud. Allison turned to Sam, eyes wondering and worrying and jumbled with too many emotions. Sam really didn't miss being a teenager, "stay out of trouble, huh?" He smirked and she returned it with a wide smile, nodding. "Good night Sam." Sam bowed his head as she exited, and hoped that he wasn't wrong for giving her an opinion he wasn't inclined to give. If told so, he still wouldn't regret it.

**I**

Bonnie Bennett sighed deeply as she sat curled up in her father's favorite chair. She'd grown accustom to being alone. Even when she really wished she had some company; someone to talk to. But everyone was so consumed with their own problems, she seemed to go unnoticed. Stefan and Elena have broken up for what seems like the final time. Jeremy relapsed. Matt, Tyler, and Caroline are in some bizarre love triangle. Damon….well, Damon is a problem in itself. Without fail, they all came crying to her; crying and screaming and pouring their hearts out. And without fail, she'd listen. Because Bonnie Bennett was a good friend. As much as that seemed like a curse for her, she accepted it as a gift. True, being everyone's confidant and no ones advisee was flustering, but her nature would not allow her to stop caring. One day, her well would run dry. Until then, the buckets kept coming as if the water was magic too. Little did they know.

Summer was nearing a close, and she had to finish the reading homework for up-and-coming juniors. With everything that's gone on this summer, anything _normal _was a mere trivial aspect. She had so much else on her agenda. The original werewolf Klaus coming to Mystic Falls and wreaking havoc, Katherine trying to kill Elena and the rest of them for good measure, in order to have Stefan. Klaus taking Stefan as a trade after he healed Damon's werewolf bite. Stefan going ripper again and had returning this summer, a new kind of erratic; Elena and Stefan hit the rocks hard and last month, she sunk their relationship. Tyler's a werewolf. Caroline's a vampire. Bonnie, she's a witch. There is no time to sit down and study when your life is all those types of crazy.

As her thoughts raced and frustratingly distracted her from her school work, her doorbell rang. Standing cautiously, she made her way to the small window beside the door, and peered out of it hesitantly. She sighed in relief, "it's only Caroline".

Caroline had been turned by Damon after a fatal car crash. Bonnie, whom already hated Damon, was so angry she turned her back on her best friend because she did not know how to handle her becoming a monster; she'd seen her kill a man, and it terrified her. Made Bonnie think that her friend Caroline as lost forever, and that she'd become this unsalvageable beast. However, with Stefan's help, Caroline got Bonnie to realize that she wasn't going to be that type of vampire. After some coaxing and lots of Caroline hug, Bonnie came around. How could he say no to her best friend of fifteen years anyways?

Bonnie smiled at Caroline and Elena whom she hadn't seen beside her. Elena looked like she'd been crying for years, but smiled anyways, holding up a pizza and DVD. Caroline; always the bubble of sunshine, held in her hand a popcorn box and Dr. Pepper. "What are you two doing here?" Inviting them in, Bonnie made her way to the desk she'd been working at and closed her book, then turned on the rest of the lights. The two girls made themselves comfortable on Bonnie's sofa, and Elena went to turn on the TV, "well", she began, voice a bit scratchy, "after everything that's gone on, we realized that we hadn't spent enough time together, you know, just hanging out and being girls."

"For once", Caroline chimed in, "we just wanted to watch a Swayze movie without worrying about the insanity of the supernatural world." Bonnie smirked, nodding in agreement, "my thoughts exactly".

_i_

"IT'S SO ROMANTIC"! Caroline blubbered, taking another mouthful of popcorn. She's taken the corner of the couch, and Elena lied horizontally with her head on her friend's hip. Bonnie sat next to Caroline in her armchair, legs dangling off the sides. "Care, you sat that every time he des the penny thing, and your getting popcorn in my hair!" Elena flicked a piece of kernel away. Bonnie laughed, amused with her friends, "nothing like the wonderful Patrick Swayze to annoy miss Elena Gilbert", Elena's head tilted back so that she was looking at Bonnie who's eyes were knowing, "tell us what's wrong." Caroline's eyes set into a semi-annoyed, but light glare, "yeah, because if your this crabby when we watch Dirty Dancing, your sleeping outside, missy", she shut the movie off and put the bowl on the table, and the both of them tuned to their friend.

Elena wanted to cry all over again. She's still been really broken up about ending it with Stefan. After he returned to Mystic Falls, he changed; he became a predator, like Damon. His faithfulness to humanity is what had her choose him over Damon in the first place, so when Stefan returned with his 'new attitude', it frightened Elena. She distanced herself from him after he lost his temper with her and vamped out. He tried everything to win her favor, but Elena was unwavering. With everything that was going on, she didn't need boy troubles, so she told him it was over. Even though she's noticed him change, she still cant bring herself to go back to him. She'd never experienced the type of pain she had when she'd lost Stefan and then had him return in the manner he did. She couldn't go through that again, it'd kill her.

Bonnie, Caroline, and Elena have known each other since they were three years old. They know each-other; can feel when the other is hurt, or happy, or angry. Over time, this intuition grew, t the point where they sensed what was wrong with the other automatically. Caroline stroked Elena's hair, and smiled apologetically, "Stefan?" she asked gingerly, as if talking to a wounded animal. Elena responded immediately, her façade shattering and tears running down her face. She nodded wildly and began sobbing. Bonnie came to the other side of the couch, and the two girls hugged their broken-hearted friend. "Elena, honey, your going to be okay", Caroline comforted, rubbing circles on her back. Bonnie nodded, "I know it's hard, but Stefan was only one guy…"

"One insanely gorgeous, mysterious, brooding, vampire guy"

Elena and Bonnie narrowed their gaze at their blonde friend, who shrugged innocently, "what? If we're being honest here…" Elena shook her head, and laughed lightly, "Caroline, you are so superficial". Bonnie shook her head, "beside all those important facts Caroline was burning to share", Bonnie rolled her eyes, "know that your not in this alone". Caroline smiled, "we're here for you. We'll help you find and insanely gorgeous, more transparent, less brooding normal guy." Bonnie smirked, "or at least try". Elena hugged her friends around their necks, "I love you two, more than anything, you know that?" Caroline and Bonnie smiled, "I had an inclination", the three laughed. Bonnie smiled, and grabbed the remote, "Dirty Dancing?" They all chimed in a yes, before laughing once more.

Ignorance was bliss. If Bonnie Bennett ad any idea what was going on in the world around her, the smile worn so faintly on her face would be eradicated immediately. She wouldn't have time to dish out on teenage gossip because she'd need to learn how to breath spells from Emily's grimore. She wouldn't be sitting with her friends without a defensive look over her shoulder every five seconds because that was what her life had made her into; a suspicious orb of power. But for now, in their ignorance to the imminent danger approaching, they could be teenage girls. Just this once.

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